The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-07-16


and would make her a very suitable sum-
mer wrap, The people then came in so
rapidly did not know what any one
brought.
Mrs. Bushwhack, President of the
Griggsville Society for the Culture of the
Brain, had prepared program of literary
exercises for the evening. She always i'm
proves such opportunities. There was to
be music, an original poem by Mrs.
Bnshwhack, and Rotations by Prof.
Shocks, who teaches rhetoric and elocu-
ton at the Griggsville Female Seminary.
The sofa and six spindle-legged chairs,
I have before mentioned, form the major
part OF the seating capacity of the par
sonage. When Professor Shocks an
nouncsd himself as ready to begin, and
suggested that as many as possible seat
themselves, six old ladies, weighing,
should think, about two hundred pounds
apiece, sat down on the sofa. The Pro-
fessor, who dotes on tragedy, ran his fin
gere through his ringlets, and, after an
expressive pause, began in sepulchral
voice: "What do hear?"
Just at this minute the four legs of the
sofa snapped off, and the six fat old Ia
dies went to the floor with crash.
We'll, this givin' folks a set-downI" cried
Deacon Screwys, facetiously. II s'pose
the dominic ii hev new things threwout
next week; fur frum what see bein' put
down upstairs, an bein' brung in down.
stairs, shouldn't wonder a mite ef he
started bank" as he spoke, he stepped
nimbly back to avoid some one, and
hitting his head against the lamp hang
ing over the comfortable, knocked it
straight out of its frame into my wife's
lap. Happily, it went out, and did no
damage besides making large grease
spot on the carpet and saturating Mrs.
Buttles's best gown with oil.
After this episode which seemed to
amuse everybody very much, the literary
entertainment was resumed. Mrs. Bush
whack read her poem, which was in
blank verse, and entitled "The Unknow-
able Unknown" which, as near as /
could make out, was her name for the
soul. Seth Waffles sang a solo about
"My love with starry eyes, my lovely
Nell" while Mrs. Rogers, in virtuous in
dignation, commented aloud in the sit
ting-room: "His wife's names Mandy. I
think it's pretty doin's to minister's
house when an old Teller of forty-fve,
with red mustache as big as brush
broom. an married man sings songs
about another girl and members listen"
There were more Rotations and more
solos, then many games of snap-and-
catch EN-, and at about half-past eleven
the occasion" was over.
Early the next morning, Nancy Falls
came to help clean up, and l soon heard
her talking mournfully to my wife. They's
ham grease an mud everywhere, Miss
Buttles-reg'ler grubbed in, so no scrub
bin II fetch it all out. That mattin' in
the hall is all in Sits. You needn't go an
look-its torn from stem t. starn; an
that lie on the front room carpets dred-
full. The sofas just ruinated, an they's
two or three holes in the carpet Deacon
Screwys made a-hitchin' about in his
chair. Nv course, he couldn't get up an
move his chair. An speakin' Nv chairs,
that little foldin' chair Aunt Charity give
you, an you think SO much of, is jest
squashed. Somebody got it out of the
closet, an twas in the study when Alec
Bullhead an his girl was there, an the
deacon was t. supper. I'll bet anything
they squashed your chair. What must
Ida Tubbs do but spook round on the
top buttery shelves, an find your sprig
ged chsyney tea cups, an git 'em down for
the young folks. Tippin' round with the
tea, she slipped down, an the amt
handle left. Eff there's anything I do
deepise, it's cup with the handle bruk.
It's my 'pinion donations cost preachers
huff sight more'n they come to-"
Meanwhile I discovered that havoc
had been wrought in my study Every
parson and literary man knows how at
tached a writer becomes to what will
class Complementary as "his things"
For years wrote on a rickety little table,
on which I had fastened a molding
board. When at last was the possessor
of real desk with a green baize top, a
place for my books and numerous
drawers for my papers and fixings, I felt
more elated than when the Athensville
College bestowed on me the title of d. ID.
Judge then of my feelings, when 1 saw
that Deacon Bullnead had somehow up
set my inkstand, and that there was not
only an ugly black pool on the top of my
desk, but the ink had trickled through a
crack that always comes in the side of it
in winter, and had soaked into several
reams OF paper, beside quite spelling the
manuscript OF book on the First Prin-
ciples of Religion, which had carefully
prepared for publication. Moreover the
nib of my pet pen was broken.
While was meditsting over my mis-
fortune, Mrs. Buttles and Nancy came
up stairs. This hnen'll never be got
clean in the kingdom" said Nancy, on
the way up. "Most on 'em come stt mp
pin right in IS if twas or6ce or shop,
an each one on 'em fetched in planta-
ton, for red clay does stick like all pos
sessed. But nov guess we've come to
kha oan,booelU